


my heart beats for you alone

by trustingno1



Series: Season/Series 3 Alternate and Missing Scenes [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 10:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3246410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trustingno1/pseuds/trustingno1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Capricious," Mycroft says instead, like John hasn't spoken, "on the best of days. Downright hostile on the worst. Locking himself in the flat for days on end, but - according to his landlady - forgoing sleep and food." He raises his gaze back up to meet John's. "Tell me, <i>Doctor</i> Watson: an ex-<i>junkie</i> coming down, or a lonely man missing his one and only friend?"</p><p>(3x03 missing scene)</p>
            </blockquote>





	my heart beats for you alone

**Author's Note:**

> A short, missing hospital scene from 3x03 that I never managed to expand or fit into anything else. :)

  
John's watching the slow rise and fall of Sherlock's chest, hand lightly gripping the inside of his arm (heavy and still and _cold,_ too _cold_ ), his thumb gently rubbing back and forth, when he notices Mycroft in the doorway.  
  
He yanks his hand away, scrubbing his fists over his thighs (absently, awkwardly, like he's been _caught_ ).  
  
"How is he?" Mycroft asks, tilting his head to the side, just slightly.  
  
"Like he's been shot," John says, flatly, and Mycroft raises his eyebrows.  
  
"Remarkably early in the conversation for this level of aggression," he says, mildly.  
  
"Yeah, well," John says, under his breath, "Been a _bloody_ long day."  
  
"For all of us," Mycroft reminds him. He pauses, examines the tip of his umbrella. "But that's not it." He glances up at John. "You blame me," he says, evenly.  
  
John touches his tongue to the corner of his mouth for a moment.  
  
"How could you _not_ know what he was doing-"  
  
"How could _you_ not?" Mycroft asks, voice still level, controlled.  
  
"I haven't spoken to him in a _month_ ," John says, incredulously, and Mycroft looks at him, almost pityingly.  
  
" _Precisely_."  
  
"What?" John asks, but Mycroft steps closer to the bed and doesn't bother answering. John lets the moment pass, watches Sherlock's heart rate climb a little. He barks out a humourless laugh. "He's _unconscious_ and you're managing to piss him off," he says. "Well done," he adds, "Really."  
  
"Capricious," Mycroft says instead, like John hasn't spoken, "on the best of days. Downright hostile on the worst. Locking himself in the flat for days on end, but - according to his landlady - forgoing sleep and food." He raises his gaze back up to meet John's. "Tell me, _Doctor_ Watson: an ex- _junkie_ coming down, or a lonely man missing his one and only friend?"  
  
"That sounds pretty normal for Sherlock," John cracks, but he drops his gaze from Mycroft's.  Pauses. "He doesn't-" he breaks off.  
  
"It _continues_ to astound me," Mycroft says, after a beat, "how little you truly seem to understand him."  
  
"Oh, and you do?" John asks, defensively, and Mycroft raises an eyebrow. "You treat him like a _child_."  
  
"And you, larger than life," Mycroft muses. "Yet here we are," he nods at Sherlock, "Because my brother has proven himself incapable of dealing with loss." His mouth pinches, briefly, and John stares resolutely at the telemetry monitor on the opposite side of the bed. "He's not indestructible, John."  
  
"I _know_ that," John says, testily, "Stitched him up myself a few times, cheers," and it's Mycroft's disappointed look - like John's so, unbelievably _slow_ \- that does it."Why are you even _here_?" he snaps, "Shouldn't you be-" he gestures at the door, "- out finding who did this?"  
  
"My brother was _shot_ this evening," Mycroft says, with an intensity, John suspects, that surprises them both. "I'll beg your _pardon_ for wanting to check on him before involving myself in the ... investigation."  
  
John sucks in a deep breath through his nose. "You'll find them, though," he says, voice low, "Whoever did this."  
  
"Undoubtedly," Mycroft says, gaze dark.  
  
"Right," John says, with a sharp nod. "Good."  
  
There's another pause.  
  
"Fascinating, isn't it," Mycroft doesn't really ask.  
  
John waits a beat. "What is?" he asks, shortly.  
  
"The effect your proximity has on his heart."  
  
John checks Sherlock's heart rate again - re-settling, but relatively unchanging - and Mycroft follows his gaze to the screen. "In that respect, too," he allows. His smile is inscrutable, and he turns for the door. "Good night, John."  
  



End file.
